Take Your Brother to Work Day
by V.G. Marks
Summary: Daniel finds himself in Washington Square Park on Christmas, not realizing its significance. His sister helps him remember with the sound of her wings.


**Title: **Take Your Brother to Work Day

**Characters: **Daniel (Dream), Death

**Notes: **Written for Yuletide Treasures 2004. _Sandman_ is one of my favorite series ever, but I'd never written it before this fic (or, er, after, heh). This is my take on "The Sound of Her Wings" (#10), if Death did it again once Daniel became the new Dream, and it's gen fic. Cryptically, I love slap bracelets.

---

The tall man makes a circle around the Square, a smudge of white against an otherwise dingy landscape. He stares at his surroundings with a strange expression on his face. Were one to study his features, one might think that he was a tourist, or perhaps, given the sunken dark eyes settled in a chalk-white face, a visitor from another planet. Pigeons flock around the young man as though they are his pets, as though they are under his thrall, the winged rats of New York to his Pied Piper. Upon closer examination, however, he appears to be leaving a visible path behind him -- a yellow road of scattered seed so fine-grained it could be called sand.

Daniel settles by the fountain, looking up. He knows he's never been to this place before; when he was a human on this plane, he dwelled with Hippolyta Hall in the West. This is definitely the East, but the arch, the fountain, even the ancient gum stuck to the pavement are all known to him. He has memories that aren't his own, yet have always been his. He loses himself in thought, and the birds nip at the Dream Lord's fingers, asking him for more.

"In good time, bird friends. I have plenty," he coos softly, causing two rollerbladers dressed head-to-toe in winter gear to skid to a sudden halt as they watch him with a mixture of horror and fascination, (_He's talking like he's a bird!_ one says to the other. _This city is full of crazies._) though the birds seem placated.

_Why does this place belong to me? Did I used to come here when I was the other me? What is it about this place that feels like home?_

A cheap loaf of bread sails through the air, hitting Daniel squarely in the back of the head. His mouth forms a perfectly round O as he turns, fingers running through colorless hair.

His assailant giggles. "Hi!"

Daniel takes a moment to compose himself again, before returning the greeting. "Hello, sister," he says somberly.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same, right?" Death winks and plops down next to Daniel, nudging his leg with her knee. "That's so clichéd even I don't know who first said it."

She seems to have been expecting him there, which comes as a surprise, but he thinks she could shed some light onto his situation. "Sister," he begins quizzically, "why do I know this place? You expected to find me here."

"Dream, I can _always_ find you. In fact, we're all able to find each other at any moment, at any time. We don't need to be in our galleries... we don't even _exist_. It's just like us to adhere to silly formalities, isn't it?"

Daniel considers this for a moment. "Why are you here?"

Death giggles again, bending her knees and drawing her black-clad legs up to her chin. "Listen, I know you're him, and I know you're not him." Her tone is pragmatic, as though this was the most obvious thing on Earth -- or any other place, knowing these two. "And I know you've always been him, but I also know you were only a little boy before."

Daniel looks thoughtful. "I have always been Dream of the Endless."

"In one sense, yes. In another, you're also Daniel Hall, though. My idiot brother -- that would be _you_, just in case you weren't keeping track -- took away any chance you'd have for a normal childhood because he couldn't cope with the idea that responsibility and relaxation aren't mutually exclusive."

"I am Dream," he insists, feeling frustrated.

"And I'm Death!" She grins cheerfully. "Now that we've made our introductions, I think we can move onto the reason for being here part of the program. I'm older than you --"

"By seconds," he reminds her.

"And by millennia," she adds before continuing as though she hadn't been interrupted. "As your older sister, I'm declaring today Take Your Little Brother to Work Day. Interested?"

Near their feet, the birds are tearing apart the French bread, divvying it up amongst the flock. They've forgotten their Dream King, and he will stay forgotten until their eyes close again. Unless, of course, they are destined to dwell in his sister's domain that night.

The beginnings of a smile twitch at the corners of Daniel's mouth. "My calendar suddenly appears to be clear."

"Good." Death's fingers circle his wrist, and in a moment, the plane starts to shimmer around them.

As their Earth bodies flicker out of existence, one rollerblader sees and slips on a patch of ice, sprawling on the pavement. The flock breaks up as she hits the ground; before he disappears, the last thing Daniel hears is the beating of their wings.

---

_"Death gives us sleep, eternal youth, and immortality." _-- Jean Paul Richter

The sounds of "Jingle Bell Rock" spill into the hallway as a neighbor pounds incessantly on the heavy door, rattling the three deadbolts. Esther Harris always said that she could never be too careful. "I love New York," she would tell anyone who listened, "but this city is full of crazies!"

Makeup manufacturers, as it turns out, are also full of crazies. The jolly expression she was wearing as she applied her Sparkleriffic Holly Red and Garland Green eye shadow, and poisoned free sample of Basic Beige Ev-R-Youthful foundation, cause her features to look deranged in their lifelessness.

Daniel bends down and examines the body, waving his hand and making Esther's corpse's eyes close. "This way they always look like they're sleeping."

"But you'd know if they really were." Death smiles, a genuine smile that reaches her eyes.

"I _can_ hear you. I'm right here, dearie," Esther clucks, bending to rest her palm against Daniel's cheek. "You should really get some sun."

Death laughs, a joyful noise that sounds like bells. "I don't think it'd do him much good, Esther. Are you ready?"

"Haven't any choice, have I?"

"No," Death says kindly.

"Then, ready as I'll ever be. Merry Christmas!" Esther says cheerily to Daniel as she goes. The sound of thumping wings fills his head again.

---

_"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me." _-- Psalms 23:4

The nurse places a hand on the girl's forehead, then shuts off the instruments with the steady hum.

"Too young," she murmurs to herself, shaking her head as she leaves.

"It's Christmas," Matthew weeps, pressing his face into his mother's stomach. She is still holding her daughter's unmoving hand. "Nobody's supposed to die on Christmas!"

Matthew's father closes his Bible, and lights the last candle on the Advent Wreath, hospital regulations be damned. "C'mon, sport," he says, standing. "Let's get a sandwich."

"I'm glad to go," says Jennifer to Daniel and Dream, watching her father lead her brother away with longing. "I hurt before, and I know I'll be with God now. I just hate that I'm breaking their hearts."

Daniel watches Jennifer and Matthew's mother carefully. "I understand," he says, surprising himself when his voice comes out as a harsh whisper.

"Of course you do," says Daniel's sister, placing a small hand on his back. "Ready to go, Jenny?"

"I will fear no evil, for thou art with me."

Death smiles. "That I am."

They're gone before Daniel hears even one beat.

---

_I'm not afraid to die, I just don't want to be there when it happens. _-- Woody Allen

"I always guessed it would hurt more." Marty Adams watches himself with his head tilted to one side. Marty Adams is also lying across the bathroom tile, pajama bottoms tangled around his ankles, hand splayed across his chest. "I spent my whole life avoiding things, simply to avoid you. But," he says with a sigh, "you only get one lifetime, right?"

"That's all anyone gets." Daniel is surprised to hear _himself_ say this, especially since he knows it isn't expressly true. On the other hand, it's also the only truth there is.

Marty takes Death's hand and pats it fondly. "You're not so bad. It's too bad we only get to see you once it's all over and find that out."

"This isn't the first time we've met, Marty." Death glances at Daniel, whose face is unreadable to the human eye. Luckily, Death is not human. "Do you remember meeting me before?"

For a moment, confusion reigns on Marty's face, but he grins suddenly. "Yes. Yes, I remember. I remember _everything_. So, what's next? Do I get to see if my name is written in old Peter's book?"

"I guess you'll find out, won't you?" Death winds an arm around Marty's waist, winking at Daniel as they go.

Her work is never done. Daniel knows she is everywhere at once, but so is he. It's comforting to know that he's not the only one out there.

---

They are back at the park again. The sun is setting, and fiery bands of red, orange, and yellow burn up the horizon. Another day is ending, falling into darkness, and Death and Dream are there.

"Did you enjoy your day?" Death is playing hopscotch on a faded chalk outline; Daniel watches her, deciding against joining in.

"You are very good at what you do."

With a loud slap of sneakers against asphalt, Death lands at the top of the key, and grins. "And so will you be. Stop worrying so much."

Daniel mulls this advice over. "I will try."

"Good. Merry Christmas, Daniel. Oh!" she exclaims. "I nearly forgot -- I got us matching gifts!"

"Oh?"

A red wristband suddenly circles her wrist, the only blotch of color on the black and white landscape of her body, while Daniel looks up in surprise when his wrist sports a band of green.

"They're slap bracelets! They pull straight, and then you can slap them on your wrist." She pulls hers off and demonstrates, laughing the entire time. "I know it's not much, but heck, it's Christmas!"

Daniel isn't sure what to say. He pauses. "...Thank you?"

Death laughs again. "No problem, brother."

The birds are pecking at their toes again. Daniel and Death settle at the fountain, each producing their own method of feeding the animals. They sit in silence for a time, until Daniel reaches out and grasps Death's hand, clutching it tightly.

"Let's do this again in a year."

Death looks over, her countenance even happier than before. "Maybe next year you can take your sister to work, instead." An artful arc of bread lands at the center of a triangle of three fat pigeons.

"It is a date." Daniel smiles at his sister (for she could be no one else), then stares around Washington Square Park, content in his new knowledge. This is familiar. This is _family._

**END**


End file.
